


A Lady Wife

by drollicpixie



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkwardness, Donttakethistooseriously, F/M, Lighthearted, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-03 02:44:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11522886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drollicpixie/pseuds/drollicpixie
Summary: When Tormund Giantsbane needs to find a lady wife there is no one he would rather look to than Brienne of Tarth. Much to the amusement of others.





	A Lady Wife

"Erm," the large bearded redhead before her grunted, shuffling uncomfortably. "You see, Brienne..."

"Lady Brienne," Sansa corrected under her breath, a pace to the right of him. 

The man cast a sideways glance at her, momentarily confused, then quickly amended, "I mean, Lady Brienne," he cleared his throat, Sansa, then Jon, nodded encouragingly, "I'm going to need a lady-wife. And I want a warrior queen to stand at my side," he spared a look at his fur booted toes, seemingly at a loss for what more to say. 

Brienne of Tarth looked around the room, her long pale face clearly befuddled. "I'm not sure I understand," she squinted her eyes, trying to recall a name, from their time together at Castle Black, but coming up empty. He had been watchful, eager to please, to smile at her. It had made Brienne nervous. He wasn't making her feel calmer in that moment. 

Sansa rolled her eyes skyward, could this moment be more awkward, she thought. 

"Lord Umber," Jon interjected to Brienne's momentary relief then further confusion. 

"No. Lord Umber is SmallJon Umber, is he not?

"Tormund defeated SmallJon in battle," Jon announced, somewhat proudly, a slight grin on his gaunt face, "and has been given the title as a reward for his loyal service."

"A wildling? Holding a title?" Brienne was not trying to be rude, she was genuinely surprised. Not just at the title having been handed to this man, Giant-something or other, his name was ridiculously wildling, that she recalled, but that the man had accepted. 

"Wildlings need a place to go, to live, to settle on this side of the wall," he proclaimed, suddenly pulling himself to full stature and she was again impressed by his height and carriage. He was a solid man, she would give him that. "And I intend to make sure they, we, get what we need. If I need to be made a lord to do that, so be it." She found herself enjoying his gruff honesty and straightforwardness. 

"But I still don't see what this has to do with me?" Brienne stole a glance at Lady Sansa, who covered her smiling lips with a small white hand. 

Tormund looked pleadingly at those around him, his cheeks turning as red as his beard. Jon actually snickered, unable to make eye contact with either party. 

It was Sansa who finally took pity on them, "Oh, Brienne," she huffed, sounding more pleased than annoyed, "Lord Umber is proposing marriage," and at the taller woman's continued blank stare, she added, "to you!"

"I," she breathed, truly shocked, turning to face the man, her armor creaking, her sword swinging at her waist. 

"I need a woman to stand beside me," the red headed man explained, sounding more confident now that his intentions were known, "someone who can fight along side me. None of these women who dance and sew," he spared a look for Sansa, who waved him off, her days of doing those things long gone but she understood his point, they all did. "I want a partner. And I need," he emphasized this word, "a woman who knows what she is about, what this kingdom is about, and I can think of no one better suited to me than you."

"I hardly think you've met many of the ladies of Westeros, I'm quite sure," but she trailed off, thoughtful. This was a proposal, a serious one. This man, Giantsbane, knew nothing of her or her father, of their mines and riches. He wanted her, Brienne of Tarth because she was tall and powerful and not like other women, because she was a warrior. He wanted her for every reason other men had mocked her. And while it wasn't love, she knew nothing of the emotion or of him to be honest, something bloomed in her breast. Hope, perhaps. And something like respect. Kinship. 

Tormund was already looking away, shoulders rolling forward when she took a step forward and struck out her hand. He stared at it like it was a foreign thing. "Yes, Lord Umber, I will marry you," she nodded and looked pointedly at her outstretched arm. He reached forward and locked his hand, warm and strong, around her forearm, as Brienne did the same and slowly they watched as the other smiled. 

"Well then," the man beamed, "look at that! I'm to be married," he turned to Jon. "And a Lord! If my father could see me now," The King of the North raised an dark brow, "he'd shit himself laughing". 

Jon clapped him on the shoulder, "Congratulations, Lord Umber. And Lady Brienne!"

Sansa grinned wickedly, "Alright everyone," she clapped, "we have a wedding to plan. And winter is upon us so we better get moving!" Immediately the hall was bustling. 

The new Lord Umber looked to his future lady-wife and she back at him. He offered his arm, awkwardly, to which the woman only narrowed her eyes. He dropped it immediately. "So, you killed SmallJon Umber. That must have been quite a fight."

His eyes widened, "Tore his throat out with my own teeth."

"Not very chivalrous but I doubt that bastard was fighting fair either. He was always a cocksure fool."

He smiled in return and Brienne couldn't help thinking that under all of that dirt and fuzz and fur, Tormund might actually be quite handsome. She shook her head feeling foolish when he suddenly stopped walking, "Lord Umber?" she asked.

His eyes wide and his jaw set he announced in a rushed tone, "I have two daughters. Their mother died a long time ago, but I thought you should know." He still was not moving. 

Brienne though did not faulted in her step, "What are they like?"

Tormund Giantsbane exhaled and took three great strides to catch up with her, "They're tall. Rough. Certainly not refined like a lady such as you. And they like to fight. With every one. Can't control them one bit."

"I think we will get along just fine," she smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something silly I wrote last year and remembered today. So I thought why not post it before the season premier? Written on my phone, not really edited. I apologize for any errors.


End file.
